Cruel
by Rayless Night
Summary: Asch couldn't forgive someone who would lie to her.


_Disclaimer: Namco owns __Tales of the Abyss__. Rating is for language and violent imagery._

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><p><strong>Cruel<strong>

Now where was York?

Much as he hated his father, much as he'd been raised for seven years away from home, Asch the Bloody took after Duke Fabre – almost slavishly in that he hardly realized it himself. Of course he knew his father had been the greatest warrior in all of Kimlasca, and Van had always acknowledged that Asch had inherited his father's savage brilliance with the sword. What Asch didn't see was the callous indifference, even the scorn with which he regarded the people passing him in the crowded streets of Belkend.

No interest in the Daathic tabard, the outsized Sword of Lorelei on his hip. Not even the red hair that signified his royal blood and inheritance of this very city. Contempt flickered through him – no wonder Auldrant was in danger with people so focused on the basic and familiar, with no interest in what was different, threatening.

Then more reasonably Asch decided this was for the best. Let people be focused on their immediate concerns. He always operated quickest when he wasn't noticed.

Asch's eye caught a scrap of gray – a stuffed mouse in an alley, sitting on a trash bin's lid. Tucking it into his pocket, he turned down the corridor. There was light ahead – the alley led to a secluded courtyard inside this block of tenements. He could already hear voices, the shrieks of playing children. All the cities had become crowded, people leaving the countryside for miasma-treatment, for the lingering fear of war, as well as the sudden influx of Replicas. Even with the miasma dispersed, people were still anxious, clustering together. Asch stepped over the sleeping figure of a man before coming to the mouth of the alley, glancing around the jumble of children and chattering people, washtubs, a vendor with a table of miscellaneous machine parts, a long grill still smoking with the scent of burnt rappig.

And another stuffed mouse, perched high on a top hat, bobbling along the edges of the crowd. Finally. Asch only drew one or two curious looks as he stepped into the courtyard. Figured. People were about as smart as cows, really. It didn't occur to him to reconcile this theory with the fact that a few days earlier he'd almost killed himself to save all of them.

There was York now, ambling towards him. Hopefully he'd gotten some information on the New Order's visit to Baticul, whether or not Ingobert had managed to –

Asch's breath kicked up his chest. After less than a second of helpless staring, he turned his glare on York.

"So, boss – "

"_What_ is the meaning of – "

"Asch, wait!"

Involuntarily, Asch's attention jumped away from York. In the first shock, he'd thought Natalia was going to rush towards him, but now he saw she'd only taken one step forward. She'd been traveling, her calves splattered with mud. She'd been traveling suddenly – she was wearing a simple court dress, its ragged edges and trailing threads showing that its train had been ripped off for ease of movement. Her stockings were mottled and torn, thin scratches bleeding through.

"What happened? Where are the others?" Asch asked.

"Still in Baticul, I suspect," York said easily while Asch kept his eyes on Natalia. Her arms were crossed on her stomach. Her mouth was tense, eyes bright, not with the open, pleading fear she'd shown him at the Tower of Rem. This fear was folded in on itself.

"Her Highness ran into me at the gates," York went on. "Said she had to see you no matter what." Asch gestured at York to shut up, then sidestepped so he was between Natalia and the crowd. York didn't shut up. "I tried to make her go, but she followed me into the marsh. And by then I figured you'd be madder if I didn't look after her, so I let her come."

"What happened?" Asch asked again.

"I must ask you something." Natalia's words came unevenly, at odds with the straight spine and crossed arms that even in these circumstances held a regal reserve. But she had heard the catch in her own voice and swallowed before she spoke again. "About the God-Generals."

Asch glanced sidelong at York. He already knew the God-Generals were acting for the New Order of Lorelei. One of them had probably been the emissary to Baticul. What had happened? York shrugged.

"Did you – "

Asch cut off Natalia's words with a gesture and covered his worry with exasperation. "Not out here, you idiot." For a moment, he almost grabbed her elbow and led her himself, but he settled for nodding towards the alley. "Come on, we'll find somewhere secure." He preceded them down the alleyway, not turning as York asked for his stuffed mouse back. Asch might've thrown it at him, but Natalia was there, so he told York to quit talking and watch her back. He didn't let either of them speak as they crossed Belkend's main thoroughfare. Natalia tried to say something as they walked into an inn, which Asch ignored for the moment, and York tried to say several things when Asch dragged him out of the hired room, which Asch chose to ignore indefinitely. He shut the door, locked it for good measure, then turned around.

Natalia, startled, had drawn back against the far window, and for a moment, Asch felt like the villain of one of those magazine melodramas the two of them had devoured as kids. _I have you now, my pretty. _He felt a blush coming on, so there was only one thing to do.

"What were you thinking, Natalia? Why did you leave the others? You're safe with them, you can't go running off on your own!"

"I needed to talk to you." Not quite a shout, but she was blinking hard, her eyelids flushed. "I'm sorry but I didn't see any other way."

Asch paced away from the door to the other window, with the pretense of checking for anything suspicious outside. He only needed a moment before his heart rate settled into something manageable. "What do you need to ask me?"

"Did you know who my real father is?"

"Of course not." Asch turned to face her. "What does that have to do with the God-Generals?"

He stared at her. And frowned as he suddenly thought it through. "You – _Largo?_"

Natalia nodded. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were redder.

Asch tried to reconcile it. Largo, deliberate and destructive. Calm, philosophical, no-nonsense. Asch's preferred partner to work with, not for any friendly bias but because Largo was discreet, even-keeled, unrelenting, and above all respectful to Van.

Also – Asch remembered, though he'd hardly thought of it before – Largo was always mindful of Arietta, gravely careful that she ate well and kept her health up, always patient when the other God-Generals dismissed the feral girl. He always seemed more grim than affectionate.

And, it had to be noted, Largo was built like a boulder. Asch stared at Natalia. Slim, long-legged. Both her muscles and her curves were smooth and gradual. Pale, bright-eyed, reckless, altruistic. She cried easily and there was usually something superior about her laugh. He'd seen that face a hundred times – over his recent travels and further back, laughing guiltily as they sneaked away from the castle, lips pursed as she wove daisy chains, her eyes shut inches from his own as they napped in the nursery. None of it added up to Largo's daughter.

He looked into her face again. The tears had been pushed back, her jaw tight, something like a frown on her face. He'd seen Largo resolute before. He didn't see Largo in her face. Everything he saw was Natalia.

"He never said anything?" Natalia said suddenly. "Anything that might've given some clue?"

"No. We don't really – We were the God-Generals."

Asch suspected Natalia wanted a different answer – _Yes, of course he showed how much he missed his daughter_ – but Asch saw no value in gratifying that. Natalia had to know the truth, even when it hurt her. Anything else would be cruel.

She stepped back from him and lowered herself into a chair, her arms still crossed on her stomach. "Thank you. I didn't want to think you knew and never told me. I don't want to be spared."

"What are you going to do?"

She didn't look at him, speaking carefully, as if picking her thoughts apart thread by thread. "I think I – will have to fight him. I almost shot him at the harbor, I wanted to... and then he told me everything. My mother died and... and I felt so – I am only me because of the Score. I never should have happened. Not like this."

Asch shifted his weight. "Don't mope about it."

"I never understood what you meant before, when you said Luke was dead. But now it's like I – "

"Shut up!"

They stared at each other, she alarmed, he furious. He turned away, felt that she was still watching as he paced the length of the room. "You have no idea what I was talking about."

Natalia stood.

"You don't." Asch walked back towards her, all but got in her face. "You are _not_ dead. No one did that to you."

She was angry now too. "But that's what he told me. Largo said that his daughter died eighteen years ago. So – "

"You're fine!" Asch's throat was hurting. "Stop acting like you've done something wrong!"

Her anger broke into surprise. Asch pulled himself up short. He stepped back from her.

"Forget about the Score," he said with more restraint. "Forget about Largo."

Natalia looked at the floor between them. "The Score did such awful things to you. I hate that I've benefited from it."

Asch glanced at the door. He wanted to go, cancel out this conversation, but he knew he'd hate himself for leaving Natalia. "Forget that too."

She opened her mouth to argue, then looked down again, pulling herself together. Asch's throat was tired from shouting, but that wasn't why he spoke softly: "Come on. I'll take you back to Baticul." He started for the door, but Natalia didn't move. His hand hovered over the doorknob, and in a sudden moment, he wanted to get out of the room as fast he could.

Reluctantly, he looked back at Natalia. Somewhat to his surprise, she'd turned her head to gaze out the window, her eyes lost in thought, her lips in a frown.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't look over. "I really was ready to kill him. If he wouldn't answer my questions, I was going to fight him, right there. I – wasn't really thinking. I just had to get to him." Her eyelids half-dropped. "Now I have to decide whether I'll fight him again. My own family." She flinched, but she tightened her jaw again. "No. My own blood."

Asch could tell she hadn't convinced herself. He stepped away from the door. "Natalia, don't worry. I'll fight him."

She turned quickly. "No!"

"No?"

She brought her hand to her breastbone. "This must be between me and – my father. Besides, I shouldn't ask you to fight for me."

Asch had been studying her hand. There were thin red scratches across its back. Even some scores across her collarbones and the base of her throat. Brambles? "It doesn't matter."

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Natalia –" Asch tried to quiet the urgency in his voice. "I've fought alongside Largo. I've seen what he does. I don't want you to – " He broke off, images rushing through his thoughts – Largo's bloody-edged scythe, Natalia lying in pieces, pale skin torn, the side of her head caved in. She was a skilled archer, she was brave, but if it came to the Black Lion, she was in no way strong enough.

She was still shaking her head, damn her. "You've made it very clear you have important things to do. So even if I – wanted you – very much – to come with me or help me or – " Some angry thought crossed her face and she opened her eyes. "I'm sorry I've asked so much from you. You and Luke. You're doing everything you can to stop Van, and I – " She looked around the room. "I've asked my question, so I'm only wasting your time. Please, forgive me."

Asch wished he'd left right after she'd asked her initial question. He could've spared her this, the moment when he nodded and said, _You're right. Freeing Lorelei is all I have time left for. I'm not here to protect you._ Now he could not spare her that. Because telling her anything else would be a lie, and he couldn't forgive someone who would lie to her.

He nodded. And said – but he didn't speak, not yet, because he looked in her eyes and saw how steadily she was watching him, and how hard she was fighting herself not to beg for him to reconsider, as she had at Daath, at the Tower of Rem, and how he had not let himself – and said, "I will fight for you. If you need me."

Not the words she'd expected. Her eyes widened, but she didn't smile. "But I know you must – "

He put his hand on her shoulder. He no longer looked at her face, rather the shallow scrapes at her throat. Little hurts. He might not live long enough to see them healed.

"Asch?"

Asch leaned forward, and Natalia's shoulder hitched under his hand as their foreheads touched. He could feel the pulse in his jugular, but he closed his eyes, didn't look up to read her expression.

Her breath brushed his face. "Are you hurt?"

"No," he said automatically, and only a half second later realized it wasn't a lie.

"Then why...?"

Something touched his jaw and he jumped back, eyes open. Natalia stepped away, returning her hand to her heart. He stared from her fingers to her face, trying to sort it out, what he'd first meant to say, what he'd almost done. "I have – things on my mind. That's all."

"Of course." She hesitated, then firmed her lips in a smile, more resolute than her earlier anger. "I know there's so much you have to do. You can't linger just for me." She nodded. "I do believe in you, Asch." Her smile faltered as he didn't answer, showing the uncertainty that was always there. Much as she might support him, she could never be sure of him. Because someday she would want him, but he wouldn't be there. So it was kindest to let go of her entirely.

Asch averted his gaze from the sudden sadness in her eyes. What had she realized? What had his face shown?

Asch asked himself a question, and wondered what the use of it would really be. But Natalia's sadness was part of him, and he couldn't shake it, certainly not by simply leaving. He took a deep breath and decided. Stepping forward, he put his hand along her neck and kissed her. She recoiled. For that moment, there was no pulse against his palm, then it returned, too fast, and her hands were resting on his chest. Asch caught himself, released her gently. He didn't want to be sad, or desperate, he just wanted –

He opened his eyes, and Natalia was blinking her long lashes, and for that moment, the sadness and uncertainty were gone.

But there was nothing to say. "I promise I – " Asch didn't finish.

He stepped away and unlocked the door as the smile in Natalia's eyes faded.

Asch didn't look over his shoulder as he stepped out. "I'll have York see you back to Baticul."

She didn't ask him to wait.


End file.
